Page 32 of Claim Me (Dmitriyev Bratva #2)

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” Kazimir hissed and with two strides, had Ryker by the throat, pitching him against the wall. The loud reverberation could be felt in my feet.

“Don’t you dare. I invited him in for a goddamn drink since you didn’t think of providing anything for your men.” I moved in front of the Russian’s face, glaring at him as I spit out the words.

He was more annoyed than shocked, but his fingers continued to dig into Ryker’s neck and the barrel of the weapon was only an inch away from the man’s head.

“Stop,” I encouraged when he didn’t budge. I placed my hand on his arm, shaking my head. “Please, don’t. This was my fault. He heard a noise and thought I was in distress. Okay? He’s on your side.”

Kazimir cursed in Russian. I didn’t need to understand the language to know what he was doing. I was surprised since his accent wasn’t that heavy, but from what I’d read, he’d been a baby when arriving in America. The family legacy.

“It’s alright, Ms. Valentine,” Ryker said.

“Like hell it is. This is still my house and I can invite any guests I want into my home.”

Kazimir growled and finally looked at me. “I’m responsible for your safety, and my men are when I’m absent. If I can’t trust they’ll do their jobs, then who can I trust?” He dropped his hand, taking a step back.

“You can be such an asshole. Ryker was just singing your praises since I wasn’t. Now you do this. Proves my point. I’m sorry for getting you in trouble, Ryker, but you are always welcome in my house.”

“Thank you, Ms. Valentine. I’m very sorry, sir. I won’t let it happen again.” Ryker didn’t wait for Kazimir to say anything, keeping his head down as if ashamed as he walked to the door.

I waited until the young soldier had closed it, leaving the two of us alone before launching into him. “What in the hell did you think you were doing?”

Kazimir crowded my space in such a way he backed me against the wall exactly where he’d shoved Ryker. The small space was just under the stairs, the large heating vent on one side, a five-foot opening leading to the hallway on the other. I was effectively boxed in.

That didn’t stop me from smashing my hands against his chest. This time, he didn’t budge an inch. He said nothing, his face hovering over mine as if he was going to kiss me. My body involuntarily reacted, my head tilting by several inches. As if I wanted the man to consume me.

His heavy breathing drank me in the same way his eyes were doing. He appeared ruffled around the edges, the scent of gasoline-putrid smoke lingering on his clothes. What in the hell had he been doing?

I licked my lips while his chest rose and fell. The silence between us was interminable, the air stagnant. Yet the electricity was in full force as it had been before, crackling to the point my skin felt like a live wire.

He lowered his head by another inch and the rapid pulse of my heart thrummed in my neck.

Exhaling, he backed away and headed for the door, slamming his hand against it before tearing outside.

When the door was slammed shut, I realized I’d been holding my breath. What the hell had just happened? I gasped for air and moved to the window, peeking out the blind he’d insisted on remaining shut. I’d expected to see him beating Ryker for his disrespect.

Instead, what I witnessed was incredible.

He’d stopped and bought pizzas. Oh, my God.

Not just for us, but for his men. He handed several boxes to Ryker as another man pulled up, one in a vehicle. He also dragged out a cooler, placing it on the front porch.

I shrank back, half laughing. Yes, he’d overreacted when barging into my house, but his heart just might be in the right place.

As a cold shiver coursed down my spine, all I could think about was that he’d placed himself in danger once again. For me. Why was he so determined to keep me safe? Because of an oath made to my brother or was this about his obvious obsession with me and my music?

Did it really matter at this point?

I walked away from the window, returning to the office and his laptop. As I sat down, I realized I’d yet to stop shaking. Maybe I was crazy, but I craved touching him.

Kissing him.

Fucking him.

The desire was too strong, I jammed my elbows on the desk, immediately dropping my head into my hands.

When I did, I realized I’d hit his keyboard.

The flash of light on the screen caught my attention, one of the files I’d looked at catching my attention.

I couldn’t stand to read anything else. My life had been turned into a horrible nightmare.

There was no need to continuously torture myself.

My finger hovered on the file before closing it. Every file needed to be closed. The last one had an entirely different name.

What?

When my curiosity snagged the bad girl inside of me, I pulled it up, immediately sitting back in the seat.

He’d purchased a book on sign language. The man continued to floor me.

In the less than twenty-four hours I’d known him, he’d managed to turn my emotions upside down and inside out, keeping me on edge and flustered at the same time.

Hate.

Lust.

Need.

They were all interwoven. Why would he do this? To try to make me feel more comfortable?

I was so entranced by what he’d done I hadn’t heard him walking into the room. As I lifted my head, I realized both my eyes were filled with tears.

There were as many emotions locked inside his mind as in mine. He was just as distraught and I think he knew exactly what I was looking at. He stood where he was, as if prepared I’d toss him from the room.

“I’m sorry,” I said in a half whisper.

He shook his head, looking away briefly. When he spoke, I could tell he was angrier than before. Not with me, but with the people who’d tried to destroy both our lives. “You are in grave danger.”

“You’ve told me.”

He snarled and I could clearly hear the sound. When he tugged some things from his coat jacket, he peered down at them before taking two steps toward me and tossing the items on the desk.

Instantly, my blood chilled. A half dozen photographs of me. Whoever had taken them had invaded my space, including one when I’d been getting ready for bed. Oh, my God. I rose from the chair, feeling lightheaded and nauseous. “Who took these?”

“I can take a guess. I found them in a car near the body of a man who’d dared follow me.”

“You killed him.”

“And two others.” I watched in fascination and horror as he signed something awkwardly, yet the meaning was clear.

I will protect you.

At that moment, I knew he was the only one capable of doing so.

Between the thought, the grief, the uncertainty, the terror and the desire, I was suddenly completely and utterly lost.

“I want you to feel safe,” he added, his tone entirely different than before. “I know you can’t trust me right now, but you will need to. They are coming after you, Marissa, but to do so, they’ll need to get through me. That will not happen.”